


it's not like christmas at all

by dinosaur



Series: 10 Days of Ficletmas [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Christmas Caroling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 04:51:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2800211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinosaur/pseuds/dinosaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, he promises himself if he goes outside in the blistering cold, he can just push the arsehole caroler into a convenient snowdrift, and then get the fuck to sleep.</p><p>It's a good promise. It gets him all the way though throwing on a jumper and another jumper and a coat and stamping into boots and huffing down the hallway and down the stairs.</p><p>It gets him all the way until he slams open the side door and nearly hits Harry Styles in the head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's not like christmas at all

**Author's Note:**

> amalgamated from [tumblr](http://imlikenah.tumblr.com/tagged/10dof). on a fateful day in early december i had an Intense Reaction to [this au post](http://imlikenah.tumblr.com/post/104209923365/captainasexual-fun-holiday-aus-for-you-to). and my inevitable downfall into the 10 Days of Ficletmas was decided.
> 
> so, on the third day of christmas, i gave to you,  
> narry: you need to stop your drunken caroling outside of my window at 2 am au
> 
> title from christmas (baby please come home)

Niall tends to make promises to himself pretty easily. He knows himself well. He knows that he can finish an entire plate of pickles and that he can memorize all the chords to a new track in a few hours. He knows he can get to sleep in 5 minutes flat if the pissed tart outside his window will stop fucking singing Frosty the Snowman at 2:14 AM.

So, he promises himself if he goes outside in the blistering cold, he can just push the arsehole caroler into a convenient snowdrift, and then get the fuck to sleep.

It's a good promise. It gets him all the way though throwing on a jumper and another jumper and a coat and stamping into boots and huffing down the hallway and down the stairs.

It gets him all the way until he slams open the side door and nearly hits Harry Styles in the head.

Niall's boots skid a bit in the frosted entryway. What - "the fuck, Styles."

All 10 feet of curls and too long scarves twirls towards Niall. Or, would twirl, if bobbing precariously like a matryoshka wasn't Harry's default setting even without snow on the ground and what smells like a litre of vodka down his throat. Niall's mildly impressed he manages to stay mostly upright and mostly annoyed that he manages to sound so good even with all his general fuckery.

Scorn properly renewed, he crosses his arms.

Harry's still singing the last chorus, looking unbothered by both the cold and Niall's crossed arms. He waves about. Niall wonders if he's trying to dance. Mostly he looks like an ill shorn winter tree being blown about.

Niall allows himself a little giggle for that. Pretty ace there, Nialler. He giggles again.

Harry looks annoyed as he finishes the song. As if giggling wasn't the desired result when he's out in -5 degree weather singing about a magic snowman in front of a building he doesn't live in. Niall gives him a look like he'd give a burger without tomatoes.

Harry furrows his brows back, opens his mouth. Niall puts up a hand.

"Look, mate, I really don't care, but if I don't get to sleep soon I'm gonna go spare," Niall says, breathing out slowly and incredibly calmly, thanks. "So do me a favor and send a poorly lit black and white instagram vid like a normal person okay."

If Harry frowns harder he might make a new hairline in his forehead. Would be pretty cool tho.

"I don't have your instagram though."

"Hm?" Niall's still watching Harry's wrinkles for signs of permanence. "What. Wait, what."

The snow makes a bit of a crumpling noise as Harry stamps a foot down. "Niall, stop gazing at me longingly and pay attention please."

Niall gapes.

"Are you having me on, mate, because it's 2 AM and I'll warn you I haven't slept yet because some arsehole was outside my flat singing ruddy fucking Christmas songs at the top of his lungs." Niall says, voice trailing off high.

Niall can feel his face getting more and more flushed, his stomach tensing with the need to turn around and go curl up under his blanket away from all this. All he wanted was to sleep, jesus.

Harry looks a little puzzled now, swings a bit of a truly ugly orange scarf in his hands.

"But I thought - Zayn said -" Harry says, sounding indignant of all things. "Do you, know Zayn?"

Niall reminds himself that Harry is trashed and rolls his eyes, lets out the air popping bright and sharp in his chest out slowly.

"Too pretty to be real, too many rings to let cop a feel, needs to admit to his Marley shrine, yeah, I know Zayn."

"That's right!" Harry fairly beams. Niall'd get offended but, he generally considers people liking Zayn a prerequisite for being a good person so.

"He confided in me." Harry whisper-shouts.

Niall feels something ugly curl tight in his stomach. He knows Harry and Zayn are close, just like he knows that Harry has talked to him a total of 4 times since they met, even with Zayn between them and 3 shared seminar courses. "Yeah?"

"He said, 'Harry, the way to Niall's heart is not through the foot but through the throat.' So now I'm here!" Harry full on dimples at him.

Niall feels a little overwhelmed and a lot confused. "What the fuck, Harry."

Harry shuffles forward to take Niall's hand in his. It occurs to him that he's got to be freezing, they've been ages but everything feels a little unreal right now.

"I'm serenading you. You like that, right? Zayn told me so." Harry says, intent on Niall's hand between his.

Niall watches him helplessly.

"I don't - I've never? What." That seems like the safest bet.

"I am serenading you." Harry says, serious to the core, if his face is to be trusted. Which, it's not.

The wind must be blowing something more than ice pellets right now.

"No, you're not." Niall says.

"Well," Harry says, indignant again. "I was trying and I don't appreciate the insinuation I wasn't. It was like a scene out of a film."

Yeah, a Nightmare on Whinny Avenue, Niall thinks. But then thinks about what Harry is saying, thinks about the way that Harry leaves space between them in class that Niall's always seeing as a barrier, that maybe Harry is putting up as an invitation. He thinks about the way Zayn rolls his eyes when he mentions Harry's name and -

"We -" Niall has to stop to clear his throat. "We should go inside, get a cuppa or something. Standing out here in the cold like idiots."

"You're a right grump at night, aren't you." Harry grins again and it feels like it should come with a TM warning.

"I haven't sleep," Niall defends, flushing again.

"Oh." Harry frowns, presses his hand tight around Niall's. "I am sorry."

"No yeah it's fine. I mean, it's not but it's - " Niall cuts himself off with a jerk of his head. The air is starting to feel less distant and more like a koolpak on his face, which means he's probably about the shade of a tomato right now. Great.

There's a gentle pressure at the corner of his jaw and Niall sighs but allows himself to be turned towards Harry. He's staring back, green eyes starling in the glare from the outside lamp post, intent on Niall. The exhale Niall gives seems to bridge the space between them, too visible, too intimate. 

Harry presses his fingers in enough to make Niall's spine thrum hotly and says slowly "You know Dasher and Dancer."

Niall lets his head thunk back against the door. Fucking hell, he's never gonna get to sleep.

He lets Harry keep his hands on him though, wouldn't due to get cold while he's being kept up.


End file.
